He Was Marked for Murder
by EscapeToCity
Summary: Bullets, lost dreams, regained hopes, billions of dollars & unrequited love. COMPLETED 3/10/03--Final Chapter "Chances" Up. *Slash*, character death...Please R&R if you can
1. Reactions

HE WAS MARKED...FOR MURDER  
  
Author: EscapeToCity  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warning: Character death...some *Slash*  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either.  
  
Notes: This is the beginning of a new series. Includes elements of post- crisis comic canon and some 'Smallville' revisionist history, as well as some of my own inventions...  
  
Read and see what you think...  
  
Best regards,  
  
-J.B. @ Pass Christian 9/15/02  
  
Comments? Email me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com **************************************************************************** *******************  
  
REACTIONS  
  
The sun is just creeping into my room. I haven't awoken in this place for so long.  
  
It feels so good.  
  
Home...  
  
I can already smell the bacon...wow....bacon...Kelex and his pals can't make breakfast worth a damn and I have so missed good, wholesome grease...  
  
Seven years, on and off... I've been learning...about myself...Krypton, Jor-El, and Lara.  
  
I cannot believe it's actually 2012!  
  
(I miss you so much...please call me...)  
  
I've become a man. Well..sometimes...food still flies out of my mouth when I laugh at the table...  
  
Of course...I don't have to eat that much anymore...  
  
So nice to be home... I mean...I came back as much as possible...to see them... But I miss the routine... The scents. The sun.  
  
Antarctica's pretty mundane by comparison. Unless you're an ice worshipper.  
  
"Clark!" "Shhh! Let him sleep!"  
  
I look over at the alarm. 6:59.  
  
(I love you)  
  
Last night I got the best sleep I've had in years. That says a lot considering I sometimes don't need sleep for days... Warm, fuzzy pillow...this one's been here since I was a kid... Posters... High School...  
  
"Let him sleep!"  
  
I'm almost back in slumber...  
  
"Damnit, Jon...turn the television back on!" "Alright, Martha...but it's probably just more of the same..."  
  
Flash.  
  
The same what?  
  
"Clark, come downstairs, honey! Hurry!"  
  
My mother sounds alarmed. Dressed only in my boxers I race down the stairwell...  
  
I don't yet glance at the television... I don't hear the voices...  
  
Flashes.  
  
"Clark...son...look at this..."  
  
My father is wearing glasses...thick ones...his eyes are going out...I can see the astimagtism there...I keep telling him to have surgery....but...  
  
"What is it, Dad?"  
  
...barely a whisper...."...Jon...maybe we should talk to him first..."  
  
"Martha...he's got to face it. Clark...son...please...sit down."  
  
Flashbulbs.  
  
My Mom. She's still beautiful. Still so full of life and wisdom. I was afraid that when I left, they'd forget me. No longer need me in their lives... How stupid....I was their son...they loved me.  
  
She's pointing to the television...  
  
"He's not ready, Jon."  
  
I don't really understand...  
  
"Ready for what, Mom?"  
  
I hear the familiar strings of the NBC News theme.... I slowly turn around... Facing the television...  
  
"It's Lex, son..."  
  
(I think I love you.)  
  
Listening. Seeing.  
  
"What about Lex, Dad?"  
  
(No....I know I love you)  
  
"....and from New York, this is 'Today' with Vicki Vale........One of the world's most famous titans of industry has died...Billionaire industrialist Alexander "Lex" Luthor was found dead last night in his ninety-fourth floor penthouse in Metropolis. Police were alerted to the scene around eleven last night, and we now go to affiliate WGBS for in-depth coverage.... Thank you, Vicki, I'm Catherine Grant, live from Central Metropolis. I'm here in front of the famous LexCorp. spire, tallest building in America, once home to the glamorous and generous man known as Lex Luthor. Last night, however, Mr. Luthor was found shot to death in the elevator lobby of the fabulous multi-million dollar penthouse. Police have been combing the area for clues but as of yet have none...nor any suspects. Millions here in Metropolis and around the world are shocked and saddened. Mr. Luthor was not only America's second-richest man, but the leading contributor to many worthy causes....He is survived only by his wife, Patricia Luthor....our viewers may remember his father Lionel was killed in a helicopter accident four years ago at Metropolis Harbour...The world has truly lost both a leader and a hero today...Back to you, Vicki...So, Cat-- Has there been any word yet how this might affect the global markets?....Well, Vicki, Mr. Luthor had a huge and diversified portfolio...I think many fear that--"  
  
I don't even realize it but the windows shatter, exploding....  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"  
  
"....--global currencies may reel on news of his death...in Metropolis, many fear for their jobs, their security..."  
  
I feel her. My Mom....she's hugging me...trying to calm me down... My Dad....he's there too...his hands are wrapped around mine...  
  
They want to comfort me. They can't.  
  
"....--when the markets open, shares of LexCorp will soar on speculation that Patricia Luthor was divest herself of her murdered husband's holdings..."  
  
My God...Lex is dead. Lex is dead.  
  
"...--here's Lex Luthor leaving the World Economic Summit just last week in Rio, his beautiful wife, now widow, by his side..."  
  
No.  
  
I picture him...blood pouring out of him...and they are taking pictures...Cat Grant in faux *purple* Gucci fur laughing...all the glitterati mobbing him as he dies...bleeding...Mary Hart in his face with a microphone...crawling...help him...help him...  
  
",,,--for those just joining us, Alexander "Lex" Luthor was found gunned down last night in his Metropolis penthouse...discovered by his wife of three years, Patricia....."  
  
"Turn it off, Jon! Quick!"  
  
(Purple...you love purple, don't you?)  
  
"We're here, Clark...we're here, son. It's gonna be alright. It will."  
  
(...wow...Clark...wow...you can fly! Lex...don't ever say the word *wow* again...)  
  
But it never will be. It never was right in the first place.  
  
Run. Please. Oh. Fuck. Stop. No. Die. Please. No. Stop.  
  
I couldn't stop screaming...I don't know how long I kept it up...at some point, for the first time in my memory, I fainted into blackness... **************************************************************************** *******************  
  
"I'm surprised he reacted that badly, Martha. I mean, he hasn't even seen Lex Luthor since, what, '05?"  
  
She pours the coffee gently, tenatively...  
  
"There was always something very deep, very genuine...about their...their...friendship, Jonathan. It's moot now, of course...let's just say...they cared for each other. Lex was one of the few people who stood by Clark through high school. He knew about his gifts...helped him to decipher the logs from the ship. Those were very tough years for Clark, you know--"  
  
Lines mass upon his face...  
  
"Cared for each other? What in hell does that mean? You're not saying--"  
  
Martha leans over and covers his mouth....sternly but lovingly...  
  
"Does it matter now, Jon? Alexander Luthor is dead. Whatever happened years ago is dead with him. All we can do now is try to be here for Clark...this wasn't the kind of homecoming I'd planned for."  
  
Removing her hand...he kisses it softly... "Me either, Martha. And I'm not saying it's not terrible what happened to Lex. It is damned horrible. Man being murdered in his own home."  
  
"Lex always had such fine security. It's shocking, really. Baffling. But the world is so violent, Jon."  
  
"That's why I thank God everyday that we live out here."  
  
"Yeah, I guess."  
  
"Who was the wife?"  
  
"I have no idea, Jon...some socialite...originally from Gotham I think. She looked devastated on the news."  
  
"Yeah...devastated until the lawyers come in with the inheritance paperwork."  
  
"You don't think...Jonathan! Lex was far too bright to let a gold-digger into his life! Let's have at least some respect for the dead!"  
  
"Maybe, honey, but Lex was always surrounded by some shady characters."  
  
"True...shady...all of them. Except Clark."  
  
(Oh, yeah....I know I love you! )  
  
She looks down into her breakfast. Her stomach is rolling. She raises her eyes to meet his...  
  
"Martha...I know I was always hard on Lex. Maybe too hard. He never revealed Clark's secrets, so far as we know...yeah...and...and...he was amazing during the whole *Midvale* incident. He really saved Clark's life...and ours...think of what might have happened if Lex hadn't *handled* things that night...if the authorities had gotten involved...it's just...I don't know. Maybe I am just a hard man."  
  
"Honey...don't knock yourself for being protective of Clark. I'm as bad as you are about our son. But Lex was good to him, good to us. Let's just remember that...God...Clark... I am glad he's home, though. He looks wonderful. So strong. But I wonder...can he handle this...this terrible news...can he deal with this, as an adult?"  
  
Taking her hand in his...  
  
"He is an adult, Martha. By our years, he's about twenty-five now. He can handle it....Twenty-five. I am so thankful I lived to see him at this age. My father never made it this far."  
  
She gets up and goes over to hug him. They stay that way until the eggs taste like plastic, the coffee cold...  
  
...like memory. **************************************************************************** *******************  
  
I wake up to the phone ringing. It's dark outside.  
  
I don't know what time it is. I don't care.  
  
My face is still wet.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Clark...hey there...it's me, Lana."  
  
I thought I'd turned off the phone.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Pete and I saw the news. Poor Lex. I'm so sorry, Clark. I'm so very sorry."  
  
"Lana....there's no need to apologize to me. Lex and I...we hadn't even really been close in years."  
  
"But you were close, Clark."  
  
(Once. Yes....once, we were.)  
  
She knows. Or she thinks she knows.  
  
Does it even matter now?  
  
"What do you mean, Lana? Has Pete been telling you stories again?"  
  
Kind laughter... "No, Clark...it's just that Pete did tell me Lex sent you letters all the time. You never opened them. Just left them in a box."  
  
I'm never telling Pete a secret again... Now that Lana and Pete are married, they tell each other everything. I'm glad I had second thoughts and never told them about me...  
  
They both think I've been off doing Peace Corps work in the Third World...  
  
"Lana...I just got tired of Lex's stories about women and partying and the fast life...I missed the guy I got to know when he lived here."  
  
"I understand, Clark. You missed Lex. You wanted him to stay?"  
  
(No one can know, Clark...they would keep us apart. It would ruin your life.)  
  
"Lana..."  
  
"Clark...I also wanted to ask you...about his wife...did you ever meet her? Aunt Nell sold she and Lex a mare last fall...Nell said Patricia was gorgeous and seemed pretty bright...what do you know about her?"  
  
Lex's.... Lex. His. Patricia. His... Wife.  
  
(We have to stay apart.)  
  
"I can't talk about this, Lana. Not right now. I'm still upset. Can I call you later?"  
  
Lana and Pate and everyone else in Smallville think I am so odd...even more of a nerd now than in my youth...they think I'm so isolated. So inexperienced... It's good to let them keep thinking that way...  
  
"Sure, Clark. Pete and I are going bowling this afternoon but tonight there's going to be a candlelight vigil for Lex at the plant. Gabe Sullivan is coming down from Metropolis to lead the prayer service. Chloe is probably coming with him. I know you'll be there."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"You owe him that much, Clark. You owe yourself. Remember that Pete and I are thinking of you."  
  
(I'm so lonely here in the city, Clark...please call...)  
  
Click.  
  
No, Lana. I left because my heart broke and I loved the bald bastard...I cut him out of my life and he kept calling the house...and calling...and Mom kept asking "What are you scared of, Clark?" And he got richer and I could freeze stuff with my breath...and God...I missed him... and now he's up and died on me and...hey...  
  
Why didn't I read the letters?  
  
(You don't have the strength to be a masochist nor a martyr, Clark. Leave those roles to me...)  
  
Lex started mailing them as soon as I left. Every week, give or take.  
  
Mom kept them all for me...everytime I came home from the Fortress-- Christmas, birthdays, Thanksgivings-- she would show them to me...that strange look in her eyes...those words...  
  
"Are you afraid of what they might say, Clark?"  
  
Mom knew. Yeah...she always did. She knew after that humid night in July, my senior year, when I had been working all day and was all sweaty and slicked over and Lex walked up behind me with the cold....cold towel...and ran it all over my chest, taking his time...  
  
I'll never forget how hard I was. Or how his mouth tasted.  
  
(Please, Clark...call...)  
  
I'll never forget the look on her face when she walked in the barn, ice- cold milk and cookies on a platter...  
  
The icy towel...his hands...all over me... I never regretted any of it. Damn you, Lex.  
  
Damn you...for being afraid.  
  
(Don't run away...)  
  
Damn me for being afraid.  
  
**************************************************************************** ******************* She couldn't believe her eyes...  
  
"This is CNN....the world continues to mourn the death of Lex Luthor...in related news, Patricia Luthor has announced the funeral will be private, held at the Lillian Luthor Foundation offices in downtown Metropolis...'I want the time to remember my husband alone...I don't want the press all over me...I simply can't handle that right now...what was that? Yes...he was the love of my life...I was the love of his life...'  
  
Maggie Sawyer watched the tape again...  
  
'...Welcome to Good Morning America...I'm here with Bruce Wayne, C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises, based in Gotham City...Mr. Wayne, we know you were close to Alexander Luthor...you went to Exeter together, rowed together...you were fierce competitors in the business arena...what would you like our viewers to remember about him?... I want them to remember what an amazing businessman he was. How much he cared for Metropolis. I want them to look past the glamour and cast their gaze upon the many libraries and schools and parks Lex built...I don't want him to become some martyr for our troubled times...I want him to survive as an inspiration, Diane...That's so moving, Bruce, really...Thank you...Here's some footage of you and your wife, Selina Kyle Wayne, attending the Metropolis Grand Opera last year with Lex...'  
  
Maggie turned off ABC...what was playing on the crime lab videorecorder was much more important...  
  
Everything about this case was important. And troubling. No murder weapon. No prints, no DNA, no witnesses. No forced entry, no theft. Clean...cold...quick...and deadly.  
  
"Turpin! Get in here!"  
  
Dan Turpin raced into Sawyer's office. She looked at him nervously...  
  
"What Maggie? Your danish not sweet enough for ya?"  
  
"Stop the bullshit, Dan...you gotta see this..." Pointing at the screen...  
  
"What's wrong, Sawyer? You look kinda peaked..."  
  
"You will be too, Turpin."  
  
Dan looked over to the monitor. Maggie was watching the survelliance tapes from the LexCorp. tower the night of the murder.  
  
"So its the Luthor tapes, so what?"  
  
"Sit down, Dan....you'll see."  
  
The crime lab had sixty tapes and disks in their possession from the building. Each one showed the events in different parts of the complex for the entire evening...Thankfully the press had no idea they existed...at least, not yet... Tape number four was the one from the sky lobby, just outside the penthouse.  
  
"Jesus!" Turpin spilled his coffee all over the table...  
  
"I told you."  
  
There...on the tape...was Lex Luthor.  
  
"He's still alive at this point...but watch..."  
  
On the tape, Lex exited the sky elevator, walking slowly towards the heavy mahogany doors of his apartment.  
  
"OK...so he's walking."  
  
"Shut up, Turpin!"  
  
Lex was saying something.  
  
"Turn up the audio feed."  
  
Almost...  
  
"A little more!"  
  
(......I should never have left you...I should never have left you...I should never have...)  
  
At this point in the tape, Lex seems startled...turning around in the hallway...  
  
"Ya think someone else is there, off camera?"  
  
"Seems like he saw someone..."  
  
Now Lex smiles....broadly...he is just about to walk forward...  
  
"Our mystery person."  
  
...When the shots hit him squarely in the chest...so fast...flashes...his eyes roll back, he seems to cough...  
  
".38 special, alright. Certainly wanted to do more than wound him."  
  
"He knew his killer, Turpin. He knew them well."  
  
"Damn. Damn. This changes everything."  
  
Both of them were horrified to watch as Lex collapsed onto the carrera marble floor...blood everywhere... They'd both seen numerous men and women die...some went thankfully fast...some...others...others like Lex...they lingered...  
  
It was awful to watch.  
  
"He's still trying to talk, Maggie."  
  
(......h-e...p..h-el)  
  
"Sounds like *help* maybe?"  
  
...He was shaking...foamy blood dripping from his mouth...he appeared to be gasping...he grabbed at his throat with his right hand...  
  
"Damn, Maggie....wait...he's still trying to get some words out..."  
  
(....K....M.....Ca....Ca....K...a...l...c....Ka...l....Kal...)  
  
"California?"  
  
"Hold on...he gets one coherent phrase out..."  
  
(....love you 'Kal'.)  
  
...for nine more seconds he gasps and tears run down his pale cheeks until finally, his eyes bulging and his body trembling, he is silent...  
  
"Wow...man..."  
  
"Who did Lex know...personally...who would want him dead?"  
  
"If he was anything like Daddy Lionel, the numbers could run into the thousands."  
  
"From what I heard, Dan, he was vastly different from Lionel Luthor."  
  
"Maybe it's simple. The wife."  
  
"She was speaking at Metropolis University's Young Women in Business seminar. There were ten cops in the audience. Her speech started at eight, was over at ten fifteen. Time of death on Lex Luthor is estimated at nine- thirty five. Airtight alibi from what we can see..."  
  
"A lover? Bad business deal?"  
  
"Nothing yet on either of those fronts...we're going to look closely at all his associates, both business and personal...I am going to investigate this California angle...might be good to see if he had any trips that way recently..."  
  
"Good idea. Nada on the other tapes?"  
  
"Nothing. Just usual LexCorp. late-night activities. Janitors. Maids. Computer nerds."  
  
"Let's make sure we check everything, every damn detail. We're gonna catch hell from the big brass if we don't wrap this up nice and quick. I see my badge vanishing before me, Sawyer."  
  
"You're not the only one. We gotta nail whoever did this. There's a methodical killer out there, Turpin, and we owe Lex Luthor and the citizens of Metropolis to find the perp and put them away."  
  
"Whatever it takes, Sawyer?"  
  
"Whatever it takes." **************************************************************************** ***************** The service was held in on the terrace overlooking Grand Hope Park.  
  
The place was mobbed with security, celebrity, and hypocrisy...most of the fifty invited guests had absolutely no feeling for Lex...  
  
There were exceptions...  
  
Bruce Wayne and his wife Selina wept openly as singer Cassandra Wilson sang Le's favorite song...  
  
...'The Nearness of You'...  
  
(when you're near, Clark...I feel safe...)  
  
Mayor Berkowitz looked to have aged twenty years...he'd battled with the Luthors for *control* of Metropolis for years...and perhaps he'd developed an affection for them through all that struggle...  
  
Peregrine White, Jr., the only member of the press invited, looked red-eyed at the closed casket...wearily fingering his cigars...wishing he had tried to better understand Lex Luthor's motivations...Maybe the 'Planet' could have treated him better...  
  
Outside the foundation's walls, thousands cried as images of Lex were shown on a giant screen....He was their employer, their inspiration, their hero...now he was dead...  
  
Outside the sun was beautiful.  
  
Outside the trees were still green...  
  
(Clark...all the rocks...they're gone...you're safe now...)  
  
Outside the harbor was still filled with ships, the parkways clogged with commuters...  
  
Outside...  
  
Under a tree...  
  
Outside...in the open....for the first time...  
  
...was the man who loved Lex.  
  
Using his x-ray vision, Clark looked into the ceremony. Saw the well-coiffed...wondered who and what they were to Lex...  
  
(Look closer, Clark...look at me...what do you see?)  
  
Closer.  
  
His eyes boring though stone and granite and polish and chrome and petals...  
  
Then wood and titanium...  
  
Lex.  
  
Peaceful. Mouth stitched shut. Body ravaged with injuries from the gunshots.  
  
What's that...  
  
Oh.  
  
My.  
  
He's really gone.  
  
God.  
  
Clark found himself shaking...then vomited into an adjacent trash bin.  
  
  
  
Whispering...  
  
"Mom and Dad said to leave all this alone, Lex. They told me not to come here today...to stay away. But I can't. Sitting around Smallville lighting candles and crying in the barn...I had to come. I'm mad too, Lex. I'm fucking angry. Somebody hurt you. Killed you. And I have to find out who and why. I promise I will, Lex. You have my word...my love."  
  
(Clark...it's never too late....to say what we feel...)  
  
  
  
  
  
END of Reactions  
  
  
  
Up Next: PROMISES 


	2. Promises

HE WAS MARKED...FOR MURDER: PROMISES  
  
Author: EscapeToCity  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warning: Character death...some *Slash*  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either.  
  
*AU/Futurefic*  
  
Notes: The story continues. A selection of Lex's letters in the period from 2005-2012. Read and see what you think...  
  
Best regards,  
  
-J.B. @ N.O.L.A. 9/25/02  
  
Comments? E-mail me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com **************************************************************************** *******************  
  
PROMISES  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
September 4, 2005  
  
Dear Clark,  
  
It already feels as if you were never a part of my life. Maybe that's best. Perhaps. I'm back here in Metropolis going out every night and sleeping alone. Like I said, maybe it's all for the best. You've got so much to look forward to now that high school is over. And I've got LuthorCorp....and my Dad yelling at me to make money! Ha! Fuck it, Clark. I miss you terribly. I wonder, do you miss me? Of course not. You're out there in the world somewhere, helping people and doing the right thing and I am sitting here drunk as hell, seated in a forty-thousand dollar chair lamenting the loss of something I never really had. Or did I? Did I *have* you, Clark? Did you yearn to hold me the way I did you? After we kissed, did you feel that rush of air that made me nearly dizzy? I feel it right now. I hope you get this letter. I hope you understand I will no way interfere in your life...I promised, right? No contact, unless you want it.  
  
All my best, as always,  
  
(Burn this)  
  
Love,  
  
A.L.  
  
  
  
  
  
November 21, 2005  
  
Dearest Clark,  
  
I've been drinking too much again and my stomach hurts and I have to go to three meetings tomorrow and I miss the way you snore. I miss the way you smell like straw and salt. You know how much I loved to lick your neck. Gross, I know. But you seemed to like it. I drove out to Smallville last week...I almost went and knocked on your parents door. I didn't though. No contact, right. I know your mother promised I could stop by anytime I wanted, anytime I felt lonely, but I can't insinuate myself into their lives anymore than yours. They looked fine, though. Your Dad was out in the yard. He has glasses now. Your Mom cut her hair and it looks great...it is shorter now. I don't know why I'm telling you things you probably already know. My head is pounding and my foot hurts...I tripped on a curb tonight outside Zero and fell against the pavement. For the longest time, I just sat there, hoping you would swoop down from above and pick me from the gutter. But that's not your responsibility now, Clark. It's mine. There's something I need to tell you about the...damn...I'm too wasted...but it's good news and I promise to tell you in my next letter.  
  
Love and salty kisses,  
  
Lex  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
December 25, 2005  
  
Clark,  
  
I am here alone in the penthouse and it's cold outside. Very cold. The streets of Metropolis are devoid of their usual holiday festivity and I wonder if everyone in this city feels as I do. I bought a Christmas tree and had Mercy put decorations all over it-- you'd like Mercy, she's a tough broad, real strong, not strong like you, of course-- after she left, I sat down in front of it and turned on the lights and it was twinkling and glistening and like a million rainbows poured over a sunrise. I saw your face in it and I wasn't even drunk or stoned. I can't stop thinking about you although I realize I must. I still haven't broken our promise. I will not come after you. I know you want to find yourself. Still...everyday I feel more frozen, like the river below, and I find myself lost in the past, with you holding my hand and gazing into my eyes and loving me and helping me to be a good person. A truly, honestly, sincerely good guy. The rocks are all gone, so far as I know. Every single bit of meteorite in Lowell County. I made sure every specimen was sent to a place no one will ever find it. Especially Lionel. You are safe, Clark. Forever. Please accept this as my gift to you.  
  
Wherever you are this night, know that you occupy every level of my being.  
  
Merry Christmas with love,  
  
(burn this)  
  
Lex  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
March 15, 2006  
  
Dear Clark,  
  
Maybe I was naive about this. I fucking thought you'd write me at some point. I love you, damnit. I just sit here, hoping, waiting for you to fly through the window, waiting for you to sweep me over the horizon and spoil me with peanut butter sandwiches and PlayStation contests. And hugs. So many hugs. It's nearly Spring here, now, and the greens and pinks and reds are starting to dance across the City. How I wish you were here to look down upon Grand Hope Park with me now. To see life renewed, time regained, and promise proved. How I wish you would be like the Spring and return to melt this inner frost. Maybe you never loved me. Maybe no one can. My father says Luthors don't need love. Is this about Midvale, Clark? Is it? What did you want me to do? You killed the guy, Clark. Fried him, for Christ's sake! So I did my thing. I covered. I burned him. All for you. To protect you. I know you never meant to do it. He was strangling me, hurting me. You were enraged...your body reacted. But do you blame me now? Does the guilt eat at you the way it does me?  
  
Please....please...call. Please, Clark.  
  
(god...Burn this!!!)  
  
-L.L.onely in Metropolis  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
July 7, 2006  
  
Dear Mrs. Kent:  
  
Thank you for the birthday card. It means so much to me that you remembered. I hope all is well in Smallville.  
  
-Lex  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
December 17, 2006  
  
Clark,  
  
Just a note to wish you and your family a happy holiday season. Business is great.  
  
I hope all is well.  
  
-Alexander Luthor  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
December 1, 2007  
  
Clark,  
  
I just received word of the fair Lana's impending marriage to young Peter Ross. How appropriate. I'm sure all the glitteratti of Smallville will be in attendance. Nell Lang made it a point to tell me in person. I wonder...will you and your family be in attendance? I wish....well....I wish I could attend but I have a previous engagement in Singapore (I have to arrange some outside financing for Father's new tower here in Metropolis). Please relay my best wishes to the bride and groom and have a Happy New Year.  
  
-Alexander Luthor, Esq.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
March 22, 2008  
  
Mr. & Mrs. Kent:  
  
I just wanted to let you know how thrilled I was to hear that Kent Farms, Inc. of Smallville has become the exclusive supplier of organic tomatoes for our new airline subsidiary. It is our pleasure to do business with your firm and I know from personal experience that you will serve as marvelous partners in my new venture.  
  
(I hope everything is well with your son).  
  
Again, we at LuthorCorp. & LuthorAir look forward to a long and profitable relationship with you both.  
  
Alexander Luthor V.P. LuthorCorp. Industries  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
August 14, 2008  
  
Dear Mr. & Mrs. Jonathan Kent:  
  
Thank you for your kind note expressing your condolences. My father's death has shocked and saddened everyone. He touched so many lives in so many ways.  
  
-Alexander Luthor C.E.O. LexCorp. Industries  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
April 28, 2009  
  
Dear Clark,  
  
I am taking a wife. Patricia. Blue blood, Old Gotham, really classy. Seems to love me. Loves me. Think this is match to last. Enclosed is invitation to our wedding, to be held June 23. Please attend...I'd love for you to meet her.  
  
Best regards,  
  
Lex Luthor  
  
P.S. There was a really bad hailstorm near Smallville. I hope your parents' farm came out alright.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
June 24, 2009  
  
Clark:  
  
I gather you think yourself too *good* for me. Damn you. I really hoped you'd come yesterday. I shouldn't even be writing you. I'm on my honeymoon! Why can't I stop thinking about you? Why do I fall asleep with Patricia in my arms and you in my heart? Damn you! Damn you! Are you jealous? I should be happy now. I have everything. Do you feel scorned? LexCorp. is booming, the city is mine, and I have the most gorgeous bride on the planet. Tell me! I finally am King. Why do I feel as if you have my kingdom?  
  
Don't write back. Not as if you would anyway.  
  
-A.L.  
  
P.S. You smug flying bastard. I would have waited the rest of my life for you! But you won't even call me. Damn you.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
November 7, 2009  
  
Clark,  
  
Oh God...Clark...Pat...she lost, umm. She was. She lost it. Fuck, man. It was already formed and all....oh, fuck. I mean, I was going to be a Dad, Clark. Four months, Clark, four months. Why couldn't my poor little boy hold on? Just five more. He wanted to, I know it, Clark. God I need you. I can't do anything for her. She's broken, Clark. The doctor said there was severe damage. Don't think she will ever carry a baby safely to term. Broken. Clark. Man, please help me. Please. I don't know what to do. I was never as strong as you. I can plot and manipulate and connive but I can't feel. I can't feel. Even for her sake. The only time I ever *felt* anything was with you. Promise me you will try to get here. Please.  
  
Your friend,  
  
L.L.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
January 1, 2010  
  
Clark,  
  
Pat and I are trying out best to make it. I've gone completely sober. I had to. The holidays were awful and she cried endlessly. Your mother sent me a very sweet letter with a basket of apples...please say thank you to her for me. Your Mom always was a star. Your Dad, too...he put a picture in the basket of their prize-winning pumpkin from the Corn Festival. Corn. You. I remember the Corn Festivals we went to, Clark. We rode all the rides, didn't we? Those damned roller coasters, how you loved them. You always let me win the games. You always wrapped that big wool coat around me because you thought me so frail. No one really noticed how close we were, did they? Maybe small towns are the best place...maybe there, people choose to live independently...like your parents. You understand? People with land can kind of run their own destinies, only make promises to themselves and thiers and choose to enter society when they want, on their own terms. I no longer have that choice. Many here in the city want me to run for Mayor, even Senate. Can you believe this? It's crazy. I admit, the idea of even more power captivates me, but I am thinking maybe Pat & I need some time alone, away from Metropolis. Selina Wayne invited us to go on an archaelogical dig in Botswana. Diamonds or something. Maybe we will accompany her...maybe just to download, to forget.  
  
Do we ever really forget, Clark? Do we?  
  
Warmest regards in the New Year,  
  
Lex  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
January 1, 2010  
  
Mrs. Kent,  
  
This note will probably arrive the same time as one I wrote to Clark. By now, I realize he has no intention of ever speaking with me again. It doesn't surprise me. Things happened in the past which changed us all and I was never truly a beneficial presence in his life. I do hope that he is happy, Mrs. Kent. I hope he finds and keeps good friends and someone to love him and who understands all those 'special' gifts he has. He is the most unique person I have ever known, if you know what I mean (don't worry, my mail is delivered by SkyLex Secured Couriers-- safer than the C.I.A.). He was my best friend. My only friend. You and Mr. Kent went out of your way, all those years ago, to allow me to spend time with Clark and I will always appreciate you both for allowing him to be a part of my life. My wife is still suffering. I can't seem to do anything to make her feel better. I know you understand what she is going through intimately...I am so grateful that you sent us the letter and the gift basket.  
  
Please tell Clark...well. Tell him nothing, Martha. Nothing at all.  
  
My best to you and Jonathan in the New Year,  
  
-Alexander Luthor  
  
P.S. Your jumbo tomatoes are a huge hit on the SkyLex Metropolis-London route. More orders forthcoming.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
May 5, 2010  
  
Martha,  
  
I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciated your visit here to Metropolis. The board of SkyLex adored you and Pat was touched by the letter you left for her. I'm sorry the two of you didn't get a chance to meet; she was still away with Selina on the treasure hunt. I hope that someday soon we can all get together; you, Jonathan, Pat & I. And maybe someday Clark.  
  
Affectionately,  
  
Lex  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
December 25, 2011  
  
Clark,  
  
The new tower is complete. Tallest office building in the world. It is beyond belief. They said I would never finish it but I did. I proved them all wrong. You would love the view. The entire city looks like a mass of crystals from up here and I can just picture you flying down onto my balcony and smiling that toothsome grin of yours at all that I have built. You'd probably tell me I spent too much money and I'd have to tickle you. Pat's in Aspen. I've got to decide very soon about this Senatorial race. I guess everything has worked the way it should have. Yeah. I don't think about you as much as I once did...but you still fly into my dreams and flutter about my heart. God, I sound like a moron, don't I? Ha. I speak to your Mother every so often. Both she and your father seem to be doing great. They miss you, though. Did you realize your mother has never forgotten to send me a birthday card? :) Every year, without fail. Christmas too.  
  
Clark, I miss Lionel.  
  
Sometimes I think I should have chased you. Fought for you, with you; to keep you in my life. Patricia does love me, and I love her, but part of me will love you always as well. Perhaps you fulfill different needs in my life. Perhaps Pat is mature, manageable, tangible love and you will always be the cliched "one that flew away."  
  
Every night I wish you would fly back.  
  
Forgive me, Clark. Forgive me for still loving you.  
  
Always, with my all my heart,  
  
Lex  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
END of "Promises" Up Next: "Secrets" 


	3. Secrets

HE WAS MARKED FOR MURDER: SECRETS  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either.  
  
Notes: Part Three  
  
Best regards,  
  
-J.B. @ Waveland 10/5/02  
  
Comments? Email me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com **************************************************************************** *******************  
  
SECRETS  
  
"Nothing yet, Sawyer?"  
  
"Nothing, Dan. Zip."  
  
"Lex Luthor had to have somebody gunning for him. Nothing on the bullets? Nothing to trace?"  
  
"Not one eyelash or print."  
  
"Damn...damn....damn!"  
  
"We're gonna get canned from the Special Crimes Unit..."  
  
Dan Turpin shook his head. For as long as he could remember he and Maggie Sawyer had been able to catch the bad guys. What was so different about this case...?  
  
"Dan...we gotta look at this from a different angle maybe..."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Luthor lived here. In Metropolis. But he didn't always live here."  
  
"Sawyer...Lex Luthor was a zillionaire, for Christ's sake....he lived all over....how would we ever be able to check out all those leads?"  
  
"Lex traveled extensively, Turpin, that's true....but he only lived in two other cities for any real lengths of time-- New Haven, Connecticut and Smallville, Kansas."  
  
"That's right...he went to Yale. But I never knew he lived in Smallville. When was this?"  
  
"Years ago. I should be getting a printout here in just a second with all the specs."  
  
"You figure some college buddy or a corn queen wanted him dead?"  
  
"Somebody did, Turpin. Somebody who's still out there."  
  
"Secret lover?"  
  
"Secret anybody who might provide us with a lead."  
  
"Everybody's got secrets, Maggie. I bet Luthor had billions of 'em."  
  
**************************************************************************** ***  
  
I've been watching her for minutes. I've been watching her for hours. Bet Mom & Dad are worried. Told them I was going back to Fortress. I hate to lie to them.  
  
I've been watching her for days.  
  
She was part of Lex's life. She has to know something. She has to help me. I feel like I'm going insane.  
  
I hear him screaming out to me in my sleep. I wake up crying because I know he must have been in so much pain.  
  
Lex. Why wasn't I there for him?  
  
Ever since I left my training at the Fortress, I've been trying to figure out a way to help people. The people of the world. Save them from catastrophe and themselves.  
  
I'm having other thoughts now.  
  
I'm not sure I want to live now that he's dead.  
  
Why couldn't I ever tell him...?  
  
I secretly keep watching her. She's gorgeous to be sure. I watched her steal some kind of yellow diamond this morning from Shreck's. She's good. She goes out all hours of the night. She drinks all the time. She smirks all the time. Just like Lex used to. There's pictures of that scowling, rich guy all over the place. She must really love him. Yeah. She's good. Real good. If she's this good at theft...who knows what she might have done to Lex.  
  
I keep watching...  
  
**************************************************************************** *****  
  
  
  
She had insisted on separate residences upon their marriage....he had no problem with it, of course.  
  
They led quite interesting lives.  
  
Dual variations on apocalypse.  
  
Sometimes on the same team, often battling it out until their mouths met, blood stained kisses and scratchy leather...writhing on cracked, wet pavement.  
  
Everyday was rife with darkness and heat and passion....and fun. She still sometimes got away with her crimes. She knew, deep down, he understood her need.  
  
Shiny things. All alone in glass boxes. Control. Domination.  
  
Like his needs.... His need for the night. His need for her heart.  
  
She looked out at the rainy sky...stopping to admire the rather handsome diamond brooch she had resuced from that pretentious department store.  
  
"You look so much happier here." She smiled. The diamond shimmered.  
  
Gotham spread out below her, retched and weary....so much the opposite of bold, lavish, bright Metropolis....  
  
Metropolis.  
  
She wasn't sure if she could ever go there again. He'd been a good friend. She'd never tried to lift anything from his houses. Well...maybe just that once. He knew who she was. She knew he was lonely. Both she and her husband tried to give him the extended family he so desperately needed.  
  
Neither one of them could compete with fields of gold, far in the western sky... She had often wondered, since his death....did that special someone know how much Lex cared? Did they love him return?  
  
Once...in Cabo...she & Bruce & Pat & Alfred were laughing, playing cards...Lex was passed out in the adjoining room....he began to scream. So loud. It stayed with her for days...screaming about bridges, ice...and water....deep...and corn and beauty and love and a boy.... They all sat with him for hours trying to calm him. Everyone tried to help Lex.  
  
Pat caught hell...many around Lex claimed she didn't try... Oh...but Pat...she did try. Lex was a tough case. Fucked from the womb.  
  
Pat... Selina had never truly gotten inside her mind. Bruce never did either.  
  
She always seemed aloof. Loving yet isolated.  
  
Poor Patty Beaumont, they used to call her. Poor in love but rich in cash.  
  
Selina & Bruce tried to be there for Pat as well... She never seemed to need it like Lex did.  
  
Sometimes she wouldn't call for weeks...  
  
They both wrote it off as indifference. The blues. Sad childhood.  
  
She shrugged, then said aloud... "We all had sad childhoods."  
  
The rain was picking up. She wondered what Bruce was doing at the moment.  
  
Business. He was thrilling to watch. The way he moved. The power he wielded....and yielded.  
  
She adored him. And he her.  
  
**************************************************************************** *****  
  
The wind slammed against the sliding glass door... Uneasily...she stepped towards it....  
  
"Bruce! Is that you?"  
  
He was notorious for just showing up out of the black.  
  
"Bruce?"  
  
No....think....Bruce...he's out of town....fuck....  
  
Nothing. The lights fell dark and Selina began to purr. Shame Kitty had to go to the groomers. Alfred's such a stickler for such things.  
  
Maybe I should go out....do a little patrolling of my own...  
  
She looked down the hallway, past the framed picture of Lex Luthor, to a deep closet where a single item hung.  
  
"Ahh.....the Cat. She's calling...."  
  
The thunder rolled again...the wind spun....  
  
Selina Wayne moved slowly down the hallway thinking of a good tongue bath....from Bruce of course....  
  
  
  
She almost didn't hear the footsteps down the marble hallway...  
  
Within seconds, whip in hand, she re-entered the den.  
  
"Show yourself or die!" ...snarling into the blackness.  
  
"Now!"  
  
She heard a man. Breathing. Not for long.  
  
"Please....please....ummm..."  
  
She readied her whip....her wrist shaking eagerly....don't tell me, she thought....another Gotham druggie rapist come to see the Cat....how boring....  
  
"Die!"  
  
The whip snapped backwards then froze. She found herself stuck. No man...not even Bruce....had kept her from cracking her weapon before. Then she felt her feet leave the ground.  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
Holding fast to the whip, she gritted her teeth, staring forward.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
The meek voice returned...this time from above her head...  
  
"Clark.....I'm Clark Kent."  
  
Selina screamed as she turned her gaze upward to see a man floating...the end of her whip held firmly in his huge hand.  
  
"Oh God...sorry....sorry...I promise I won't hurt you. Please. Please, Mrs. Wayne. I was Lex's friend. I need your help."  
  
She screamed until her voice gave out. Then...silence. Steady breathing. From the floating man. She couldn't say anything. Was this the Joker's work? Oh...hell...and she'd just gotten her nails done. Bruce....oh....Bruce....  
  
She found her composure. Remember who you are, Selina.... He's just a man. A floating man. A man. Barely that from his voice.  
  
"Let me down....please.....Clark. If you are a friend of my late friend....you will do that."  
  
She heard the click of a flashlight.  
  
"Ooops...I'm so, so, so very sorry, ma'am."  
  
She found herself lowered back onto the floor. She nearly fainted as she watched Clark sink down towards the floor, turning himself upright as he did so....  
  
Maybe I'm dead. Maybe I have dementia. Maybe too much catnip. Too much wine. Maybe it's just dark in here and that flashlight is dying.  
  
Clark stopped for a few seconds, hovering over the terazzo floor.  
  
Nope. He was floating.  
  
"What are you?"  
  
He backed a few feet away from her, settling to the floor, hands at his sides. He looked kind. Even sincere. His eyes were dazzling. Blue. Green. Like the Hope. Yes...like the Hope itself, locked away in damned D.C.  
  
"I'm Clark. Ummm....I knew Lex in Smallville. I thought you could help--"  
  
"Clark...what ARE you?"  
  
Lightning flashed outside. She was certain she saw rosy cheeks. He chuckled lightly...  
  
"I'm just Clark. Nobody. Well...somebody...somebody who cared greatly for Lex and wants to find out what happened to him."  
  
This was no enemy. He certainly wasn't sent by Harley and her twisted clown spouse. Smallville?  
  
He was strong. Big. Bigger than Bruce even. Probably not where it counted....but....he could kick some major ass, that's for sure. And floating! My God....he can probably fly. Keep it controlled, Cat....you still don't know why this character broke into your place...  
  
"How did you get in, Clark? Why come to me?"  
  
The lights returned....washing the room in their glow...  
  
He's crying.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Wayne....I-I-I...saw you...at the funeral in Metropolis...read in the Planet that you and Lex were friends....I didn't know how to reach you. Your office wouldn't take my calls. So I flew up here. And...I....watched you...."  
  
"You watched me?" Ohhh....kinky....and cute....he'd better not get Bruce jealous...  
  
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Wayne--"  
  
"Selina. Always Selina. Nobody calls me Mrs. Wayne except Alfred."  
  
He's smiling....such a sad smile. "T..Thank you. I am sorry I scared you."  
  
Smallville? Meteor shower....years and years ago. Bruce spent millions trying to help the locals.  
  
"You didn't scare me. I did nearly kill you."  
  
"Yeah....ummm....like I said....I need to find out what happened to Lex."  
  
Lex. The mention of his name brought back years of memories....again and again.... A truly decent guy. One of the few. What did this kid have to do with him? He's obviously much younger than Lex. Smallville....that bastard Lionel banished Lex there....yes....Bruce tried to get him to move to Gotham....but for some reason...some reason... *Clark* Lex stayed for quite a few years there...  
  
"What were you to Lex Luthor, Clark?"  
  
He's looking away again. Suspicious. Or Guilty. Maybe both. Don't tell him what you know. Got to talk to Bruce first. Bruce promised we would look into that. Secrets. Lex had so many.  
  
"Ummm....Selina...Lex...he....he...I loved him."  
  
Loved him? This is corn boy? Hot damn! I certainly see why, Lex. Oh yeah....I see why.  
  
"He never mentioned you, I'm sorry."  
  
His eyes are welling with tears. I don't want to hurt him....but--  
  
"Lex is dead, Clark. Dead. And before he was dead he was married. Married, Clark. Do you know what that means?"  
  
"Of...of course...I do."  
  
He's looking down. Damn me for being cruel. But Lex is dead and this golden floating god standing in front of me can't change that. No one can.  
  
"I miss him...." Clark breaks into tears and they fall wash over his cheeks.  
  
"I do too, Clark."  
  
"Was he happy before he died? I mean...umm...was his marriage happy?"  
  
"I think so. As happy as most marriages are."  
  
Are you sure, Selina?  
  
"Good. I didn't want him to be alone. He was always afraid he would be left alone....he...umm....he....d..d...died alone....."  
  
A wail escapes his lips and they tremble...  
  
The sound breaks my heart.  
  
I take his hand in mine... "Clark...Lex was happy....I promise....I want you to know that the Lex Luthor I knew was a wonderful man. My husband and he were great friends, people respected Lex....my husband--"  
  
"H..H...H...Husband? Oh, man...if he comes--"  
  
"You know who he is then?"  
  
"Yeah....Bruce Wayne, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"He's like the richest guy in Gotham City. Maybe even richer than Lex was."  
  
He doesn't know.... Secrets.... Bruce...damn This kid can fly and somehow you've still stayed under whatever radar he has. Your mastery of stealth never fails to amaze me, husband... It also probably helps that I just remembered you're in Houston for a week trying to wrap up that deal with Royal Dutch Shell.  
  
"My husband is very successful, Clark. But it's alright. I don't think anyone but me saw you here."  
  
"Mrs. Wayne....Selina....please...please just answer this one question for me..."  
  
"I'll try, Clark. Shoot."  
  
"Do you have an idea of who might have killed Lex?"  
  
Honestly I don't. Bruce and I have gone over every shred of evidence. Every tape. Every folder. Nothing.  
  
Whoever did this seems to have vanished into the night. We did find that one thing...well.... Can't think about that now...  
  
This poor kid. He must've really loved our pal Baldy. I loved you too, friend.  
  
"No...Clark...and it is tearing all of us up. All of us who loved him. I wish I could help you."  
  
Fucking lousy Metropolis Police. So-called Special Crimes Unit. They need a Cat in that town. And certainly a Bat.  
  
His face is streaked. The lighting had stopped....the thunder is far away from here now...  
  
"Would you like something to drink, Clark? Maybe sit down for a minute."  
  
I really do feel sorry for him.  
  
"No....umm....I gotta get home. Selina....I'm glad Lex had you for a buddy....I'm sorry I scared you....I am....please don't be mad."  
  
"I'm not, Clark. Remember that Lex is gone. None of us can bring him back. You must grieve and move on, young man. Otherwise you will lose your own life to sadness."  
  
Bruce....God....I don't want to see this guy end up like us.... He exudes goodness.... And quickly fading hope...  
  
"Yeah...umm..well...it's late....I gotta go."  
  
"Take care, Clark Kent. If you ever need to talk, you can come again. But please use the elevator next time."  
  
My whip gives out pretty swift punishment, Clark. You got lucky.  
  
"O.K.....good-bye, Mrs. Wayne."  
  
A rush of air about me and he's gone.  
  
No human can move that fast. No man. He's not a man. No wonder he was so damned polite.  
  
Lex. Pat. Clark. Shit. Can't think anymore about any of this tonight.  
  
Pat... Why haven't I called her lately?  
  
Bruce...what will you think of all this? Clark....you are damned lucky you didn't break in here while the Bat was in residence... Pain.  
  
Secrets...  
  
Purr........  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
They sat together every day. Every night.  
  
Neglecting chores. Neglecting feedings.  
  
They waited for his daily call.  
  
Their child was hurting. Sure, he was a 6'4, 225 pounder.... But he was still their little boy.  
  
The letters... They'd found him sprawled on the barn floor, weeping....his fists pounding into the dirt...making ten foot holes and ruining the foundation....  
  
The letters... Lex had really cared for him....but had gone away to let Clark live his own life.  
  
Now....Clark's life was filled with tears.  
  
Everyday. He called. Same time.  
  
"Kelex told the funniest joke." "Lara's holoimage showed me Argo City...it was beautiful." "Kelex just told another funny joke."  
  
Somehow they knew he wasn't at the fortress. Their son was a horrible liar. Always had been, thank God.  
  
The sounds of city traffic and horns and bells gave it away.  
  
Still...they let him keep up the illusion that he was safe, encased in his icy Kryptonian wonderland thousands of miles away...  
  
They had to trust him. Trust him to be a man. Do what he felt he had to. In his own way. On his own terms.  
  
They knew in their hearts Clark would find a way to deal with all of this. They had raised him to be a fine man. Jor-El & Lara had given him gifts and wonders unknown to any on Earth.  
  
"I miss you and I love you both so much!"  
  
Jonathan & Martha Kent had given him a conscience and a soul...and as they sat watching the moon rise, they knew Clark would come through.  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
He'd made sure no one was around.  
  
  
  
  
  
He'd been here before. Just after the funeral.  
  
  
  
He came here often now.  
  
  
  
He saw him. Lex..... Lex.....  
  
  
  
That smile.  
  
  
  
  
  
He pressed his lips to the photograph....and felt the frame break....  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(The camera sensed movement...whirred to life....filming....sending its digitized images...)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I love you," he whispered....  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Somewhere else, someone grinned as they watched a nervous Clark rush about the penthouse...frantically picking up shards of glass.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(shards....secrets....of the past....)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
END of Secrets  
  
HE WAS MARKED FOR MURDER will continue... 


	4. Roles

HWMFM: Roles  
  
Author: EscapeToCity  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warning: Dark subject matter, *Slash* inferred. Character death referenced.  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either.  
  
*AU/Futurefic*  
  
Notes: The Wife.  
  
Best regards,  
  
-J.B. @ Waveland 10/18/02  
  
Comments? E-mail me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com ****************************************  
  
ROLES  
  
  
  
"I hate him."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Him. You know who."  
  
"No, Patricia, I don't know anyone named 'Him.' Please elaborate, if you wish."  
  
"Him."  
  
"We're stuck here, Patricia. I need you to open up."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Are you sleeping these days?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Eight hours a night?"  
  
"Two."  
  
"That's not enough. You know that. We've gone over this before."  
  
"I know you only want to help me...but--"  
  
"But what?"  
  
"Maybe there is no 'helping' the helpless. The abandoned."  
  
"You feel abandoned? By what? By whom?"  
  
"Lex, of course."  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
"He's gone. I have nothing left but money. I find myself wondering if I ever really had him in the first place, Doctor."  
  
"Elaborate."  
  
"Him. That. The past. That place. I'm wondering if he ever really left the life he had there. I'm wondering if I was filler, a pause between choices, a bore...a temporary solution. I'm wondering if he....if he....loved...me."  
  
"You told be in prior sessions he cared for you very much. You told me he trusted you."  
  
"Should he have? I wonder."  
  
"Patricia...remember...you can tell me anything. Anything at all. These meetings are completely confidential."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"So is there anything you need to say?"  
  
"I loved him."  
  
"Alright...we've established that. But there is obviously something troubling you-- someone troubling you...this 'Him.' Would you like to tell me who he is and why he makes you so unsettled?"  
  
"Yes....he's...umm...he's...a boy."  
  
"A child?"  
  
"Not really. He's a picture, he's a time. He's loss...salvation. Not mine, of course. Lex's. Damn him...he's...he's....a bastard."  
  
"A bastard? Why refer to him in such a manner?"  
  
"Because Lex loved him. More than I."  
  
"Do you believe Lex was having a physical affair with this individual?"  
  
"It wasn't an affair, Doctor. It was a life."  
  
"Was this going on at the time of your husband's death?"  
  
"No."  
  
"When did it occur?"  
  
"Before I married Lex."  
  
(But not before I met him...)  
  
"Patricia-- listen....if you are feeling threatened by a previous relationship that your husband had prior to your marriage, don't. Don't. You have stated repeatedly that Lex loved you and only you during your marriage. The past obviously didn't impact that."  
  
"Oh, but it did, Doctor. The past impacts everything we are."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Lex never left Smallville."  
  
"Smallville?"  
  
"His father had installed him out there for a time, years and years ago. For a time, he ran the Luthor plant down there, ended up buying up half the town."  
  
"Continue..."  
  
"At some point after his arrival there, he began some sort of relationship with a local...a boy...a teenager...."  
  
"Are you upset that Lex was having relations with an underage boy?"  
  
"No...of course not. I know the horrors of a cold and empty bed. I've never judged that about anyone. Who has the right to say what is and what isn't?"  
  
"Society, perhaps? The law?"  
  
"I am society, Doctor. Believe me, we don't give a damn, so long as we don't get caught. And laws are for the poor or foolish. A well-placed envelope always buys the verdict."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Anyway...Lex and 'Him'...they...they were very close. Then the boy left and Lex returned here. And that was that."  
  
"So why does it seem to hurt you so to think about it?"  
  
"Because after I lost the baby, I found a box. A box of photos and letters...a fucking box full of a life I wasn't a part of. Lex's life. Lex's life with 'him.'"  
  
"But that life was over, Patricia. You said so yourself."  
  
"It never ended. Lex carried part of that boy with him everyday of his life. I have goddamned nightmares...our wedding...it's beautiful and I am about to say 'I do.'...and suddenly Lex is gone...and I look outside and there he is, kissing that farm hand. That damned piece of white trash. Kissing him and telling me he's so sorry he never loved me but thanks for the good time."  
  
"You're very upset, Patricia. Maybe we should end this session."  
  
"No one ever loved me. Good Times Beaumont. Patty the Prowler."  
  
"Calm down. Please. Calm down. Stop crying."  
  
"I'm sorry. It's just that when you figure out...well, when you figure out that you wasted your life loving men who could never love you back...well...it just makes you angry. Bitter, perhaps?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"I need to talk some more."  
  
(Got ten years?)  
  
"That's fine. We have the time. Just calm down. Remember that you aren't alone. You have friends, a company, charities."  
  
"Bull. Junk. More junk. As for friends...they keep looking at me as if I have done something wrong. Casting suspicious glances my way all about town. I'm thinking of leaving Metropolis."  
  
"That's the first time I heard you mention that. Why would you leave?"  
  
"This was his town. I'll never be what the people here want. He was their King. I was just the lipstick and hair."  
  
(I want to go home. To Gotham. To my hallway. Sawyer and Turpin have nothing to hold over me. I'm free. To go home and swallow glass.)  
  
"I think you're underestimating yourself."  
  
"No...I'm not. Some people in this life know exactly what they are, Doctor, and I am one of them. I'm a heiress. We don't get sympathy. We get envy. We get spite. No one loves us. My role in life is to spend money and sleep alone."  
  
"Again...I think you're being far too negative. Think about all the great things you have done and will continue to do."  
  
"I don't care about the future, Doctor."  
  
"Reconsider that notion, Patricia."  
  
"When I was pregnant...before the blood and the sharp jabs...and that...that...loss...I thought a baby would fill me up. Take away this absence of faith in happiness. But then he was gone and I was back where I started."  
  
(Back in that hallway....my head spinning...help me...)  
  
"You said in the past that Lex was very attentive in those days. Didn't you feel close to him then?"  
  
"Sometimes. Some days. But I always caught him looking out the window...out there...past the towers and the park...west...towards...you know."  
  
"No...I don't know. Elaborate."  
  
"He was looking for him, Doctor. For Clark Kent."  
  
"Ahh...a name."  
  
"Clark. Yes. Lex married me but he was looking for him. With every heartbeat, Lex worshipped him."  
  
"How can you be sure?"  
  
"I told you I found the box. Hundreds of pages of longing packed away, hidden from my sight. Eighty-four pages devoted solely to the color of Clark's eyes. Ten pages of Clark's lips. Twenty of his strong hands. I remember crying and hating and...and--"  
  
(His beard...so scratchy....you...you there...help me...)  
  
"Take another tissue."  
  
"--thanks. Yes...it was traumatic. To learn that your husband had not only loved someone more than you but then to find that he virtually supported Clark's family. Awarding them food service contracts on SkyLex. Trifling, I know. But relevant."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"He was taking care of his family. Lex, that is. He saw the Kents as his real family. Not me. Not the baby. Not Metropolis. Lex's heart and intentions never left Lowell County."  
  
"Again, Patricia, how can you know this for certain? Lex married you. He lived with you. He made a life with you. A very public life. You say he loved you. Why the need to even consider this 'other life'? Isn't it all moot now? Perhaps you need to simply grieve. Maybe that's what all this is...you're lashing out due to the grief. It's perfectly understandable and that's why I am here. To be your friend. To advise. To listen. To help."  
  
"Of course. You're right. It's all moot now...there's nothing to regret."  
  
  
  
Patricia Beaumont Luthor looked up at the clock and saw it was time to leave.  
  
"I have a facial scheduled at Tesmacher's. Same time next week?  
  
"Of course. See you then."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Shut up, bitch!"  
  
What a fool. She thinks I am grieving. Ha. The grieving was over at the funeral. Seeing that alabaster mannequin laid out, his lips curling at the edges. Smirking. At me. For me.  
  
"Father...stop! She's hurt!"  
  
Dear, sweet, feline Selina holding my hand and cooing like I was some kind of pathetic little girl. Good, old, stoic Bruce staring at me, trying to measure my sanity.  
  
He should stop to ponder his own.  
  
"Please....stop him....please."  
  
I remember the first time I met Lex. Sixteen. My party. Daddy threw the most extravagant parties. Lex and Lionel arriving by coach. How pretentious, thought Mother.  
  
"You're magnificent, Patricia. Simply exquisite. Oh...I'd like you to meet my son..."  
  
Daddy handing me that breathtaking necklace. Bruce brooding by the stairs. The fire crackling, smelling like pine and hope. The chandelier glistening and Lex's cute little laugh.  
  
"Father. I don't think she's well."  
  
Bruce in the shadows scoping out the crowd, looking like death itself. The food. Delicious. Bacon wrapped trout and caviar....and wine and I know I shouldn't be drinking so much. But Mother and Daddy look so happy and I wish Bruce would ask me to dance. He's so tall.  
  
"Care for a dance?"  
  
Dancing under the stars, my hand in Lex's. Snap. It was legitimately romantic and dazzling....  
  
"Care for a dance?"  
  
Later that night...I can't find Bruce...where am I? Daddy's study. Stuffed animals. My room? Blood? The rank scent of Havana and salt and expensive spirits, of turns and more dancing....of beards and baldness. Of initiation. I remember calling out...  
  
"H-H-elp me....anyone."  
  
...no one knew. The scent. The laughter. Bald and crying. The sins of the father. No one will know. Pop. Marble...and why is it so cold? My necklace broken. Another kind draped across my chest....Mother....Daddy...Bruce carrying me up the stairs....his tear-stained face, asking me over and over- - who?  
  
"I'll kill whoever did this, Patty."  
  
I couldn't speak. Damn...I couldn't speak. Mother...he face so hard....she's angry...I've made a mistake... Daddy....I'm sorry...I'm not a bad girl...  
  
"Give her a sedative. She's delusional."  
  
I couldn't ever say it that night. Or since. Just a little incident.  
  
"Father--" "Shut up, you weakling! If you don't want a piece of her, I'll keep it all for myself!"  
  
No one will remember.  
  
"Lex...help me..."  
  
Mother taught me well.  
  
"Your father has a merger coming up soon with Luthor Industries. Do you understand?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"You were drunk. Nothing happened."  
  
  
  
Stop.  
  
  
  
I remember other things as well. Kisses on silk sheets. Real kisses. Lex holding me, protecting me...from myself, from the past. I remember every second of time with him. After ridding our lives of Lionel, I believed everything would work out.  
  
I wanted forever with Lex. It wasn't his fault, was it? I wanted him to hold me the way he had....the way he had...just for a moment...before Lionel had burst into the hall...  
  
"Pat...if you ever need to talk about that night....that night in Gotham..." "No...Lex...I don't need to talk about it. Ever. I don't really remember much anyway. The past is the past."  
  
Help me...  
  
I love you.  
  
To realize he'd rather have been with Clark Kent.....well....let's just say it changed things.  
  
"She's a hot little number, son...one fine piece."  
  
Role reversal.  
  
  
  
  
  
The day I found the pictures. The needs. The promises. The secrets. The day my heart broke. The day I was sixteen again....the day I died.  
  
  
  
"Damnit, Jeffries....you missed Tesmacher's."  
  
"Sorry, Madam."  
  
Lousy driver. Crack shot, though.  
  
(I'm sorry it had to hurt.)  
  
I do have other appointments. Drop off that tape to the police...in the mail. A stop at Dean & Deluca...a trip by Cartier....that little something to pick up at Cadmus....  
  
Access has its privileges.  
  
Lex...  
  
(You could have stopped him from hurting me.)  
  
You really did pour *all* your thoughts into your letters, my love. My husband.  
  
  
  
Everything I buy today will be green, in honor of your special someone.  
  
  
  
Doctor-- I've had a breakthrough. Thank you so much.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Clark Kent. Maybe you can be with my husband forever.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(Now I will hurt Him.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
In hell.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
END of "Roles"  
  
This will continue... 


	5. Games

He Was Marked For Murder: Games  
  
Author: EscapeToCity  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warning: Dark subject matter, *Slash* inferred. Character death referenced.  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either.  
  
*AU/Futurefic/Crossover (slightly...)*  
  
I apologize for the long wait...  
  
Best regards,  
  
-J.B. @ N.O.L.A. 10/26/02  
  
Comments? E-mail me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com ****************************************  
  
GAMES  
  
  
  
The sun still hadn't risen over the fields.  
  
She had been waiting all night for it. Light. Natural light, in any form. It had been overcast for days....for nights....hiding all the stars and the comforting moon.  
  
She couldn't sleep. Too much to think about.  
  
How could she ever help Clark? How could she help him cope with Lex's death?  
  
Jonathan was too consumed in winter wheat and snow predictions. Martha knew he cared as much as she about their son, yet...  
  
He will never truly accept what was....what could have been. He's probably content that Lex is dead. Not *happy* about it, but content.  
  
"Clark can blaze his own path now, Martha."  
  
But the problem was....Clark wasn't blazing a path anywhere save Metropolis. He went there every night. Martha knew it. She'd caught him racing back into the barn.  
  
Last week, four in the morning. His tear-stained face telling her everything.  
  
"I have to find out what happened, Mom. I have to. I owe him."  
  
"He wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."  
  
She looked him over. Flannel torn. Mud...or blood? Hair matted, scent rank, eyes darting about furiously....the look of complete desperation.  
  
"I have to help him."  
  
She hugged him, then pulled away to hold his face in her hands...  
  
"Clark...Lex is gone. He's gone! This has to stop. It's dangerous. You look like you've been romping through forests and sewers!"  
  
"I have. Grand Central Park is where LexCorp. kept its most secret files. Underground."  
  
Martha's mouth fell agape.  
  
"Clark-- you've been hanging out in the park! Jesus!"  
  
"I keep hoping I will find a clue."  
  
"Clark-- you have extraordinary abilities, baby....but the police now think it was the act of a foreign interest. Lex was very powerful and influential."  
  
"How convenient, Mom."  
  
His dark tone shocked her.  
  
"How so?"  
  
He turned away from her, looking into the finally risen sun....  
  
"I saw her."  
  
"Who, Clark?"  
  
"Patricia Luthor."  
  
"Lex's wife? Son....you're not following her....are you?"  
  
"No....um....not really. I....just, uh....I just want to make sure she's doing right by his memory."  
  
"Clark....honey....please....OK....what was Pat Luthor doing?"  
  
"She was.....L-L-Laughing."  
  
A tear fell from his eye.  
  
"Clark....everyone laughs. Why does it upset you that Lex's widow was laughing?"  
  
"Because Mom....she was laughing and saying 'I won' over and over again. It made me throw up. And I don't think I'd thrown up since the last time I was around the rocks."  
  
Martha was silent for a moment.  
  
"Clark...think about it. Pat Luthor is running Lex's businesses now. Maybe she was happy about some deal that went her way. Maybe one of her prized thoroughbreds won some race. Maybe anything, Clark. You can't think she was involved--"  
  
Clark shrugged...."I don't know what to think, Mom."  
  
"Please, honey. You've got to find a way to deal with this loss. Going to Metropolis and searching high and low for clues isn't going to bring him back. You must know that."  
  
"I don't know anything anymore. Nothing. I'm hurting, Mom. I feel like I have been shot with fifty green bullets and my heart has leaked out onto the grass and no one can stop the bleeding."  
  
"Clark. You're father and I are here for you no matter what, you know that, right?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
She had to think of a way to get his mind off Lex. Maybe suggest a trip back to Antarctica. A place he could completely regroup.  
  
Maybe call Lana and Pete...see if Clark might move-in there with them for a while...I know Pete was looking for help to rebuild their barn...  
  
Something. Anything. She had to come up with a plan. Right now her mind was on getting her sad and dirty son into the shower. Then some bacon. Coffee. Then some eggs. Waffles. With little sprinkles on them... Then some additional family chatting....this time Jonathan included.  
  
Winter wheat be damned.  
  
***************************************************  
  
"Sawyer!"  
  
"Turpin....damn.....it's the Luthor driver....Charles something or the other....isn't it?"  
  
"Yes. Jeez...his head looks smashed in."  
  
"Call forensics at the Special Crimes Unit pronto. I want to find out exactly how this joe died."  
  
"What's this?"  
  
Dan Turpin was looking ever-so-closely at the right index finger of the man. Blood was there. Something else, too.  
  
"Looks like cloth."  
  
"Flannel, maybe."  
  
"Make sure those specialist boys bag that up. Looks like material from a shirt."  
  
"A struggle?"  
  
"A possibility."  
  
"Ya think this has any connection with that tape we got?"  
  
"Anything goes in this case...it gets more interesting every day."  
  
"That big guy in the tape....did upstairs identify him yet?"  
  
"Nope. Probably not from Metropolis. We've got visual records on 99% of the population here now. A drifter maybe...?"  
  
"A drifter who can enter the most secured residence in Metropolis? Get serious!"  
  
"I am. How could anyone gain access without tripping the alarms? Think about it."  
  
"Perhaps he had the code?"  
  
"Pat Luthor told us only she and her husband had the code to enter the personal quarters. Even the staff weren't allowed in."  
  
"Pat Luthor was at the WGBS Gala when the intruder broke in. All security systems were armed and functional. Downstairs security at LexCorp Tower say no one entered the penthouse elevators.....OK....something's off here..."  
  
"Damn right it is! We've got to identify that man! He might just be our killer!"  
  
"What about Henderson?"  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"The Chief seems to be on that foreign terrorist trip like everyone else. Ya think we're barking down a dead end road?"  
  
"No. And you know I don't think this was any foreign terrorist. Remember the penthouse tape, Turpin. Remember?"  
  
"Luthor wasn't frightened at all. No hint of surprise in his face. He looked relaxed. Even happy."  
  
"Exactly. Remember, Dan....Lex Luthor knew his killer."  
  
******************************************  
  
The sun rose over Metropolis just as it had Smallville....fiery and bold, tinged with gold and blue and hints of burnt orange.  
  
The skyline, always so impressive and dazzling at night, receded behind the lush blue harbour and verdant swaths of greenery.  
  
Grand Central Park....the fountains with their clear, rose-scented mists. Proud statues glaring down the broad avenues....the rumble of the subway felt ever-so-slightly beneath millions of commuting feet.  
  
SocietyBank Tower. Eighty-eight floors of stunning blue glass rising opposite LexCorp tower.  
  
Pat had successfully stopped the city's second largest bank from building their tower any higher.  
  
Traffic moved. Children played. Cats sang love songs across alleys. The hot dog vendors fought for space among the plazas.  
  
The City moved along. Just as Lex would have wanted it to.  
  
His city.  
  
Her city.  
  
First of Metropolis Plaza. Pat planned to buy it next year and drive the venerable trust institution into the ground. First of Metropolis owned the much-smaller First of Smallville....who in turn held the note on a certain 370 acres very close to Pat's heart...  
  
She stood on the balcony, looking out over her kingdom. Her scarlet scarf blowing gently in the sixtieth floor breeze. The world was alive again. The hallways were gone and she'd fired her analyst.  
  
Her insurance policy sat in a rather open location, atop a Frank Lloyd Wright table, encased in protective material.  
  
A faint green glow emanating from it... Consuela kept stopping and doing the sign of the cross in front of it.  
  
Gotta stop hiring illegals.  
  
"Lex always said to plan ahead." ....she chuckled....everything had worked out so much better than even she had hoped.  
  
All Lex's extensive network of scientists and laboratories were at her command now. For her exclusive use.  
  
"Special project, Dr. Happersen, a very special project."  
  
She ran her fingers along the railing...admiring her nails. She felt as if she could fly.  
  
She heard Consuela's voice behind her....  
  
"Mistress--someone is here to see you..."  
  
Who cares.... What a sight... She leaned a little forward. Her kingdom spreading open for its Queen...  
  
  
  
  
  
"Patricia!"  
  
  
  
A familiar, masculine arm was wrapped about her waist....pulling her back a few feet from the edge.  
  
Familiar. Strong. Lusty. Older. The beginnings of lines around the eyes. They danced...like fierce rapids...  
  
Suspicious eyes, though. Then again, they always were.  
  
("What happened at the party, Patty? Leave it alone!")  
  
"Bruce!"  
  
He positioned her in a plush lounge chair, looking her over...  
  
"I'm not injured, you know." Chuckling...  
  
"That wasn't funny, Patricia. You scared me. Not much scares me."  
  
Consuela hurried onto the balcony, fear in her eyes... "Mistress...will you be needing anything?"  
  
"A drink, Bruce?"  
  
"No thank you, Consuela."  
  
"That will be all, dear."  
  
"Yes, mistress."  
  
"You nearly fell off, Pat."  
  
"No I didn't. I was just admiring the view."  
  
"Of the city?"  
  
"My city, Bruce...my city."  
  
"It's the people's city, Patricia. All seven million of them. You are just a part of the greater whole."  
  
"Ha! Is that what billionaire Bruce Wayne tells the minions of Gotham? I don't think so. I don't care to discuss egos and business. I was enjoying my morning. Where's Selina?"  
  
Bruce looked away... "She's on the continent."  
  
"Oh." Smirk. "Trouble in paradise?"  
  
"No...we just don't get to spend as much time together as we would like."  
  
"I see. You'd better change that, Bruce. You never know when the one you love will be taken away from you."  
  
"True. She will be home tomorrow. She's fine...you...you...Lex...are you dealing with his passing alright?"  
  
"Yes. I have to. LexCorp needs a strong leader."  
  
"I meant...not the company....personally, Patricia....how are you feeling?"  
  
"Just fine."  
  
"At the funeral you seemed so distant. Both Selina & I were worried about how all this was affecting you. I know you probably need some closure. I have been using all the Wayne contacts here in Metropolis to try and find out who might have murdered Lex. Nothing is coming up. I hear the Feds and local police have turned their attention abroad...."  
  
"Yes. I have heard the same."  
  
"All this must have you up nights, Pat. I'm so sorry you have to go through this."  
  
"No pity....and I have been sleeping quite nicely...I have cried long enough, Bruce."  
  
"Sometimes pain creeps up on you when you least expect it. I still miss Lex everyday. He was a good friend. A sincere friend. It's hard without him in my life."  
  
"I'm not you, Bruce. I can let go of the past."  
  
"Oh. I see."  
  
She glanced into the den to see the green glow becoming even more pronounced. Damn Cadmus. They told me lead was enough to block it.  
  
"Patricia?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Selina will be here in Metropolis, Pat. Umm...in a week or so. She's going to auction off a star ruby at the Palace of the Arts."  
  
"Fabulous, Bruce....look...I really have to run....I am so glad you stopped by."  
  
"Pat-- I think we need to talk more....Wayne Industries still funds research out at Cadmus and I heard you were out there for some meetings last--"  
  
"Yes, Bruce, I was at Cadmus. It was one of Lex's favorite ventures. But what I was doing there is absolutely none of your concern."  
  
"I see."  
  
"I really must be going, Bruce. Please tell Selina to call me when she gets into town. You know the way down."  
  
(Bruce...not as observant as you used to be...thank goodness for domestic discontent...)  
  
********************************************************  
  
"That roast was fantastic, Mrs. Kent."  
  
"Pete....close your mouth!"  
  
"Oops!"  
  
Lana punched her husband playfully on the shoulder.  
  
"Still a big kid!"  
  
Martha watched them both closely. They were so happy together. Lana...the little girl lost, the magazine cover orphan....Pete....always smiling and joyful, always loyal...the best friend her son ever could have had.  
  
Married. Loved. Safe. Dreams she still had for Clark. Clark.  
  
He sat across from Pete. His eyes focused on the tablecloth.  
  
His hair was so long these days. She had to get him to laser a little off soon...  
  
"Son...are you alright?" Jonathan reached over and grasped his son's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah....Dad...I'm fine. Just thinking."  
  
Jonathan noticed Clark's eyes had dark shadows under them...  
  
"You're always thinking, Clark...you need to stop thinking and have yourself some fun!"  
  
"Pete! Clark's probably just still upset over L--"  
  
Stubble....when did Clark age so much?  
  
The look in Martha's eyes told Lana to stop right then and there.  
  
There was a horribly uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Lex. His name was Lex. It's alright to say it, Lana."  
  
Lana sat her fork down and looked away.  
  
Pete looked confused.... "Clark, man...I mean...I know you two were good buds and all....but he's gone, man. People die, Clark. We all will....I mean....you know?"  
  
"We all will? Will we?"...Clark's words were barely a whisper...  
  
Martha looked at Jonathan. Jonathan looked at Clark.  
  
"Outside, son. We need to talk."  
  
"O.K. I'll be back in a little while guys."  
  
Lana and Pete just nodded. Clark and his father left the room.  
  
"Mrs. Kent?"  
  
"Clark just needs some time, Pete. Lana, honey...will you pass me the gravy?"  
  
"Of course, Mrs. Kent....but....have the police found out who killed him yet? Anything?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No wonder Clark is still so upset. He believes that good will prevail." Pete put his arm around his wife.....  
  
Martha smiled at them both. "That's what makes him so wonderful, Lana. Clark still believes."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
"Charles Warrington. Age 52. Cause of death was blunt force trauma to head. It was a quick one. Severe damage to rear quadrant of brain. Signs of a struggle, although we can't tell just yet if it involved one or more persons. Fabric found under fingernail is dyed red flannel, likely from a man's shirt."  
  
"You got that, Sawyer."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Prints?"  
  
"None."  
  
"Perp probably wore gloves. No prints on the Luthor scene either."  
  
"Think they're connected?"  
  
"Possibly. I mean....Luthor's dead...now his personal driver."  
  
"What about the tape? Positive I.D.?"  
  
"Well...what we have is this."  
  
Maggie Sawyer opened up a folder to find a set of high definition photographs from various sites in Metropolis.  
  
"This is definitely the guy on the tape."  
  
"Whoa. Red flannel shirt in every shot. Can't this guy afford some threads?"  
  
"Any prints from the penthouse?"  
  
"No....strangely there are none from the day our suspect entered the premises and broke the picture."  
  
"Hmmm....and witnesses?"  
  
"He was seen at various locations around the city. McDonald's, Wendy's, Taco Bell, the Grand Central Park pizza booth, Rodier's department store, the Post Office, some flea-bag motel in Hob's Bay...."  
  
"The dates match?"  
  
"Most do. None on the day that Luthor was murdered, though."  
  
"That's alright. We have enough to question him. He was the one in the apartment that day kissing Luthor's photo."  
  
"Back to the jilted lover angle?"  
  
"Maybe...maybe something deeper...something older."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Clark Kent, age 25....resident of Smallville, Kansas."  
  
"Smallville!"  
  
"Give the dog a bone. Yes....Smallville. Where our dead billionaire lived for several years."  
  
"Sawyer?"  
  
"Yeah, Harris?"  
  
"One more thing. Seems Kent's parents have a contract with SkyLex airlines to supply organic produce for their flights."  
  
"So Clark Kent's parents were in business with Lex. Why didn't we know this before?"  
  
"We just got the fax from LexCorp."  
  
"They sure are running slow these days without the King."  
  
"They are moving all their corporate files to Midvale. That's what the guy said on the phone. Said it was a huge mess. I bet the shredders are working overtime. Didya know they had all those papers buried under the zoo?"  
  
"Yeah...they've got caverns out there. Place is damned spooky."  
  
"No bother...you have enough from these photos, eyewitnesses and the business connection to bring him in."  
  
"Turpin?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Clark Kent was in Lex Luthor's apartment. Wearing red flannel shirt. Clark Kent was seen all over Metropolis, including Hob's Bay--"  
  
"Very near to where we fished Charles Warrington out--"  
  
"--and Clark Kent's parents had some sort of financial arrangement with Lex Luthor--"  
  
"--you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
"Damn straight....we've got to get to Smallville!"  
  
Maggie Sawyer and Dan Turpin raced out of the office....  
  
Ashley Harris, lab technician, returned to her desk. She noticed another page of information on her desk--  
  
"How strange..." she said to herself... "Clark Kent has no fingerprints on file....anywhere...how odd." ************************************************************ "Son?"  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Anything you need...I'm here."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm sure the Metropolis Police and the Feds and the SEC and everyone else is trying to find out who killed Lex. All we can do is go on with our lives."  
  
"You never liked him, Dad."  
  
"Wrong, Clark. So very wrong. I respected Lex Luthor. He was a complicated man."  
  
"Very..."  
  
"And I am aware that your relationship with the man was complicated. Life is like that, Clark. Nothing is ever clear...everything is a cloudy kind of game....with the rules never given out all at once...just one at a time."  
  
"So life is all struggle and no victory?"  
  
"Of course not. You're a testament to victory. You told me that your Kryptonian birth parents saw you as their most cherished creation, a symbol of life...and sent you here to Earth to save you from certain death. You yourself are the embodiment of victory. And hope. Never doubt that."  
  
"Thank you so much, Dad. I love you....but--"  
  
Clark began to sniffle.... "I couldn't save him."  
  
"You saved Lex more times than I care to imagine, kiddo. And Lex saved you and he....he....."  
  
"He loved me, Dad."  
  
"Yeah...." ....adding gruffly.... "that too."  
  
"Does that still bother you?"  
  
"Let's just say that it wasn't part of my plan for you. But it doesn't bother me. This is 2012, you know?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And believe me....they will solve Lex's murder. He was too important a man....too many people need to get this resolved."  
  
"Yeah, I guess."  
  
"Remember what we talked about, Clark. I want you to stay here in Smallville. Unlike your mother, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go back to the Fortress right now. I think you should be here with us and your friends. Pete really does need help with their barn...you should see it! I don't know what he and Lana are thinking! Good kids, for sure, but both of 'em belong in town. I swear, that boy never did know how to handle a hammer!"  
  
"Or a cow! Remember when he tried to milk old Bessie!"  
  
Both father and son laugh heartily.  
  
"Seriously, Clark...you can heal here."  
  
"O.K."  
  
"Please try, son. I love you too much to see you hurt."  
  
"I promise I will, Dad. I will try to make everything better. I don't want to make you upset."  
  
"You could never upset me, son. You and your mother are my favorite people in the world. You're my hero."  
  
***************************************  
  
"They are going after Kent."  
  
"Delicious."  
  
"All the evidence will point to him."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"He will fry for this."  
  
"As he should."  
  
"The foreign angle was a nice way to divert attention from your other plans."  
  
"Yes, if I do say so myself."  
  
"People are so xenophobic and paranoid these days....it's easy to blame someone in Damascus before someone in Dallas--"  
  
"--Or Smallville. But they will. They must."  
  
It was so nice to have connections. To own people. To get anything you wanted whenever, with the drop of an envelope, the chill of a threat...  
  
Lionel you would be so proud, sweet father-in-law, sweet tormentor... Lex....I have become what I feared most.  
  
But I have won.  
  
Pat lay back on her sofa, feeling triumphantly aglow.  
  
I wonder what color he will turn when fried....green, perhaps?  
  
************************************  
  
Far away from the glitter and grit, the deceptions and hysteria, the pain and paradise that was Metropolis sat a man....  
  
A good man...  
  
Who still believed in virtue and sincerity.  
  
Clark Kent sat on his old couch. His eyes fixed on the stars.  
  
"I can heal."  
  
He repeated himself just to make sure he could actually say it.  
  
"I can heal."  
  
  
  
  
  
He knew he could. He knew he would.  
  
But Lex had to have justice.  
  
  
  
He had to.  
  
Clark hadn't given him the one thing he'd needed most. Himself. In person. For seven long years.  
  
If only...  
  
  
  
  
  
But.  
  
  
  
  
  
The game Clark played now was resolution. Re-animation. Rebirth.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Not of a man he loved...said man now rotting in city soil...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
But for the faith that love had given him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
END of "Games" Up next: "Chances" 


	6. Chances

He Was Marked For Murder: Chances  
  
Author: EscapeToCity  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warning: *Slash* inferred. Character death referenced.  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either.  
  
*AU/Futurefic/Crossover (slightly...)*  
  
OK...I realize how long this one was in coming. I apologize, seriously...I intend to write much more now that I have survived a rather (emotionally) disastrous winter.  
  
Final chapter of this series.  
  
-J.B. @ Houston March 2003  
  
Comments? E-mail me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com ****************************************  
  
CHANCES  
  
SMALLVILLE  
  
"What time is it, Jon?"  
  
"Seven."  
  
Martha Kent walked nervously towards the curtain framed kitchen window. Her son wasn't home. Gone, again. Where?  
  
"You think we should call--"  
  
"No."  
  
Her husband was right. The authorities wouldn't be any help with this. Clark still wasn't over this...this...awful thing. Lex's death.  
  
"We just have to give him more time."  
  
Time was something that dragged and bled and strayed without warning. Time was unforgiving and cold and it didn't seem to solve anything in the truest sense...  
  
All time seemed to do was form blisters on the heart, hardening the soul, or worse...never allowing wounds to heal.  
  
"Jon...do you think he's in the city?"  
  
"I hope not. I hope he realizes there's nothing he can do. Even with all his might."  
  
Nothing.  
  
The fields looked bitten by the weather...the stalks of corn were blowing around in the north breeze and Martha felt like everything was transient...everything could be blown over. Jonathan sensed her fears...he came up behind her, pulling her into a warm hug...  
  
"It's going to be alright, honey. It will."  
  
She wished she could believe him. She almost did.  
  
(believing is all we have left)  
  
"Jon!"  
  
"What's wrong, Martha?"  
  
"It's gone...look, on the bureau...it's gone...oh, Jon..."  
  
***************************  
  
METROPOLIS  
  
Maggie Sawyer sipped her coffee silently in the squad car. Dan Turpin looked nervously to his watch. His hand was shaking.  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
She looked her partner in the eyes...  
  
"Yes. Everything adds up to Kent. Prior relationship of some sort. Ransacked the apartment. Strange behavior. If he wasn't the killer he still knows a hell of a lot about Lex Luthor and what might have happened to him."  
  
"This place...it just, well..."  
  
"Doesn't look like a criminal's house? How many times have we gone out to some picture perfect little apartment in Metropolis, Dan? How many times? Picture perfect, with flowers in a box and a calico kitty sitting out front. Granny waving us in. Pie in the oven. How many times?"  
  
"Hundreds."  
  
(don't trust anyone, Clark...all people do is hurt you)  
  
"And just when we get inside the door, Granny comes at us with a machete or a semi. The pie is laced with apples and schrapnel. The cat's collar molded from plastique. Think about it, Dan. Nothing is ever what it seems."  
  
"Nothing...no...you're right."  
  
They sat in the car watching the Kent house. Yes, it was perfectly pastoral and homely, with flowers out front and a windmill whirring above it. Yes, there was a tractor and a barn. Yes, it looked like the home of good people.  
  
But looks were always deceiving. You couldn't be tricked. You couldn't take the chance.  
  
*****************************  
  
Selina pulled on her cigarette, purring. For a moment she could feel Bruce's arms around her, hear his laugh, the warm wind of the Atlantic on her neck. She was almost dreaming when--  
  
"Mrs. Wayne?"  
  
City sounds assaulted her. This was not Mustique, Bruce was still away on business and her fingernail broke as she scratched angrily at the leather. Pat. Pat. What are you up to?  
  
(never trust anyone...human nature is to destroy)  
  
She didn't want to be here. Gotham was home, not here. I could sell that ruby anywhere...hell, I don't really want to sell it anyway...it looks fabulous on me...  
  
Metropolis... Too shiny, too fake. Too many rainbows laced with false hopes. Too many memories of a good friend. His name everywhere. Everywhere. His face everywhere. Effigy for Metropolis' fallen god.  
  
"Mrs. Wayne?"  
  
She hated being called that by anyone but the one who mattered.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are you certain you don't want me to call Mrs. Luthor and tell her you're dropping in?"  
  
Selina grimaced....it was good to have workers who were polite but this was too much...  
  
"It's a surprise, Alfred. A surprise." The forced smile made her teeth glisten. Glancing at her through the two-way, the driver looked scared. Good.  
  
Good, she thought. I'm scared too.  
  
**********************************  
  
He had promised them he wouldn't return to the city, at least not without them. He had promised he would stick to Smallville and Midvale, to the safe places, the places where there were no glowing billboards or shadowy memories. He had promised.  
  
He had intended to keep said promise. He'd tried to lose himself in farm work and the cloudy future and old friends who didn't understand and the complete lack of new ones. He'd tried to read as many books as possible, but cried because he remembered a certain person who loved to read more than life itself. He told himself there was nothing else left to do but move on, which was true, but move on to what?  
  
The pain simply wouldn't cut out. It was malignant and heaving and dripping with blood and he gnawed at it eagerly, wanting to hurt. Wanting to...  
  
He had gone into the living room that morning, hoping they were still blissfully asleep. There were still lines under his eyes. He had lied and told them that he was sleeping. He hadn't slept in weeks. His mother had taken to watching him, trying to ensure he rested; sadly, she didn't realize he could fake it so well.  
  
(faking it well is how most people spend their lives)  
  
She didn't deserve that but he didn't want to sleep. Everyday he was filled with images of those eyes, that face, that apartment in the sky and all the lost horizons...he walked into the living room, the midnight gloom shining through the windows, the moon resembling a green, dead place Clark didn't want to remember.  
  
He wandered if there was a God for Lex and Jor-El and Lara. Maybe they were together. He hoped so. Jor-El and Lara could adopt Lex, hug him. He could be the son they lost. They would like him. He was a science freak, just like them. Silly fantasy, he thought....his birth parents were torn apart, literally, by the force of a star and his Lex was gunned down on a cold floor, mouth hanging open.  
  
Everyone he loved was killed. He hadn't told his mother or father, but he'd had dreams of them being shot, Bonnie & Clyde style, dusty blood trails dancing in the searing Kansas sun.  
  
Shuddering, he sat down on the sofa. He looked across the room. Pictures of his family. Pictures of better times. Was there a chance he could ever feel like that again? That certain picture caught his eye, as it always did. Lex in chinos and a cowboy hat, laughing at him...where? why?....were they fishing?...he couldn't remember....was it summer, was it fall...was it then? Why had it gone away? His head burned, a rare headache...for a moment he feared he might blast the wall with a shot of heat vision...he closed his eyes tightly and felt a huge tear drop from his right eye.  
  
(never lose control)  
  
The picture was still there as he wearily opened his eyes. That smile, those eyes. Fishing, that was it....fishing. Down at the spring, in that good year before the drought knocked Faithful Spring into memory...In the good year when chances led to hopes and dreams come true and Clark was young and strong and Lex was smart and beautiful.  
  
For the moment, Clark could almost will himself back to that day, that place, that chance. But moments are by definition, fleeting....  
  
(everything is fleeting save hope itself)  
  
He snatched the picture and rushed quickly, through the open window, into the misty sky. In the distance, someone waited....  
  
************************************  
  
9AM ---  
  
"I don't want to be disturbed for the rest of the morning."  
  
"Of course, Mrs. Luthor. Of course."  
  
The flowers, irises. Flown in. The table, marble. Adorned with eggs and bacon and croissant and fine jam and the best of fruits.  
  
Our boy must eat.  
  
The city outside buzzed and brooded as always, it was insignificant now. This had been Lex's city, not her's.  
  
They are oblivious anyway. He was never the saint they believed him to be.  
  
The phone rings and it's jarring and she swears at it. Who the fuck is calling here?  
  
The machine picks up..."Patricia, it's Doctor--"  
  
Pat pulled the plug out of the wall.  
  
I've had a breakthrough, Doctor. I don't need you anymore. I don't need anyone.  
  
(Thank you Lionel...the sins of the father...) ***************************************  
  
"Mr. & Mrs. Kent?"  
  
"Yes, I'm Jonathan Kent. How can I help you?"  
  
"We're here about Clark."  
  
"What about Clark? What about my son?"  
  
"We need to talk to him."  
  
"Talk to him about what?"  
  
"About the murder of Alexander Luthor."  
  
***************************************  
  
He flew, gliding and weaving and turning and slowing at times to appreciate the early morning dew on the fields, the opening flowers, the wink of a distant creek or the gleam of chrome on the expressway. Ahead was the city...the slender towers of steel rising up from Hob's Bay, the roads jammed with coffee-bearing workers and requisite day care deliveries....the brilliant golden gilded globe of the Daily Planet, the GBS Tower with its usual electronic display: "Watch GBS, the station of the nation!"...First of Metropolis Bank, a post modern pink granite affair, with gables and turrets and fountains falling from seventy floors up. Shreck & Co. department store..."a city under one roof"... and Centennial Park--acres and acres of trees and if Clark thought hard enough he could remember kissing under a huge elm (or was it ash)...there, the giant statue of Lex, still under construction, cast in platinum plates, the birds dancing about him as if in worship....the bay, the cars, the towers....all surrounding the LexCorp Tower, that marble and blue glass monolith providing a heart, a core, a center, a chance....a chance...that maybe he could get some closure now. Maybe.  
  
********************************************  
  
"Get off my porch."  
  
"Sir, we're from the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit. We have a warrant to search these premises for evidence in the case."  
  
"Jon, they're serious. Please."  
  
"Martha, he's our son. And he, he...."  
  
"Jon, don't--"  
  
(we must all protect Clark at all costs, always...)  
  
"What, Mr. Kent?"  
  
"Damnit, he loved him, you bastards. He loved him."  
  
***********************************************  
  
Just be good to me. That's all I asked. All I ever asked. I didn't ask you for the brass ring or this damned city or your fucking devotion. Just be honest. Honest, Lex. Do you think it was easy....well, it wasn't too hard to be honest. But not too easy. To do what I did to you. What you made me do to you. After he did what he did and you were there and did nothing.  
  
(revenge is meaningless, Clark, never forget that...)  
  
I wanted you. So bad. Thought you were him, the prince, the knight. Should have fucked Bruce. He was better looking anyway. Should have chased him. Let that cat have him. Let her be safe. I'll never be safe.  
  
"Hello? Is someone there?"  
  
I'm not ready I'm not ready I'm not ready...not...no. Now. Now. Now.  
  
"Yes. I'm here."  
  
*************************************************** This elevator is so slow. I could have scaled the side of the building faster than this. It was faster when Lex was around. Wish Bruce was here. Damn. What am I doing? I'm good at this kinda stuff but I'm not the Detective. Fuck. Maybe I should leave. Maybe. It's just something about her is really off. Something. I promised Bruce I would snoop around, try to figure out what's going on. Try, ha! Again, I am no Detective. Pat is and has always been an enigma. Wonder if she's related to Edward...  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Stop. Don't. Leave. Come back.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
"Hello, Clark Kent."  
  
"Mrs. Luthor."  
  
"Patricia, please....my, you are amazing....how you got into my penthouse and all...well...you are quite the special young man...."  
  
"I just came to see it one last time."  
  
"My apartment? Why?"  
  
"I just wanted to see where he lived one last time."  
  
"That's rich, Clark. Smallville wit, I suppose. Ha, ha."  
  
"I've seen what I needed to. Now I will leave you alone."  
  
"I'm always alone, Clark. We all are."  
  
"You probably miss him a lot."  
  
"Not half as much as you do, loverboy."  
  
"What is that--"  
  
The glow filled the room and she smiled and hoped what she was hearing was screaming and it was and he was slumped on the floor in a second and she didn't hear the distant hum of the penthouse elevator approaching its destination...  
  
"P-P-Please.....don't hurt....me...."  
  
"You hurt me, Clark. You had my husband's heart. Before I even had a chance. He wanted you but settled for me. Do you know how that feels?"  
  
A strong kick to his head had him feeling just a little bit of everything....he vomited onto the floor....it reeked of hate and stained the persian rug with green, glowing chunks...  
  
"I....I....didn't...know....that he....that....Lex....loved me...."  
  
"Liar. Fucking hick liar. The letters, you bastard. The longing sighs. I thought you trailer trash types were raised to tell the truth! Of course, you're not exactly human, are you...? Ha, ha, ha."  
  
His eyes widened in fear. Tears seeped out. She knew. Everything. How? Why?  
  
"Clark...oh, dear...you don't look hungry now...I wanted this to last awhile but I have a date for an auction this evening and must attend to my hair....I really would love to stay and chat but you look thirsty and I have a schedule to maintain..."  
  
(I'm cured, Doctor)  
  
He trembled...."...thirs...thirsty....?"  
  
"Why yes, dear Clark, thirsty....here....here...."  
  
She produced a vial of liquid kryptonite, milled at Cadmus especially for this purpose....  
  
"N-N-No...no....no!!!"  
  
"Drink it and be with Lex. You're going to die anyway."  
  
Clark shook his head and tried frantically to keep his lips kept firmly shut but he was weak and none of his muscles, much less his jaws, were working. He panted, gasping for any air he could find and in that moment she poured the contents of the vial into his aching mouth.....  
  
"You know, Clark, there's the chance you might not see Lex anywhere. I'm not sure there's a hell for freak aliens who are allergic to green meteor rocks. Oh, well..."  
  
He was dead.  
  
She began to laugh and dance about the room when the crack of a whip garnered her attention...  
  
She found herself ensnarled in the tight leather whip but smiled maniacally...  
  
A teary voice screamed into her ear--  
  
"What have you done?!?"  
  
"Selina! Get out!"  
  
"What have you done, Pat? You killed him!"  
  
"I gave him life, Selina. I gave him back to Lex, my dear. I gave him back to Lex."  
  
The tears she cried this time were real....  
  
**************  
  
This.  
(Clark...meet my friend, Bruce...)  
Time.  
(Clark...my God...you're green...)  
Real.  
"I've decided not to return to Metropolis."  
  
(take it)  
  
"Clark, I'd like you to meet my wife. Lois Lane Luthor, meet Clark Kent."  
Chance.  
"I don't want to know my origins, Mom. If they sent me away, they obviously didn't want me."  
  
(make it)  
"What would I be without your love?"  
Chance: the abstract nature or quality shared by unexpected, random, or unpredictable events.  
  
A raffle.  
  
A risk.  
  
A lottery ticket.  
  
A hazard.  
  
An opportunity.  
****************************** 2003  
  
"Come closer, Clark...."  
  
"Lex, stop goofing around...."  
  
"No, really, I want to look at you."  
  
"I look like a fool."  
  
2012  
  
"You're so beautiful."  
  
"Don't talk like that, I'm a guy..."  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
"Forever, Lex."  
  
2003  
  
"Tonight...Lex....I want to umm...."  
  
"I want that too, Clark. I know you're scared."  
  
"Don't go, Lex."  
  
"Don't ever go."  
  
"I have to take the chance."  
  
"I'm ready to take the chance."  
  
"Wake up, Clark."  
  
"Ready to take the chance."  
  
"Wake up."  
********  
  
2003  
  
"Wake up, Clark....I think I might be ready to take that chance...."  
  
"No hesitations."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
********  
There's the chance everything could happen differently. Or the same. Or in a way they never dreamed possible. In my mind, I like to picture them sitting on a bench in Centennial Park, the leaves falling on them and the sky purple orange blue.  
Maybe Lex was never marked for murder, perhaps he was. Maybe Clark's fears became a reality and he succumbed. Maybe the world is everchanging and one chance decision changes us and our realities. Facing our fear, taking what we truly want (and need) can let us avoid the horrors of chance.  
"I need you, Lex...and I will never stop loving you."  
That's the way I dream it. Perhaps my dream (or nightmare) is theirs.  
...wake up.  
END of series 


End file.
